


Lost and Found

by hideflen



Category: Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Genre: M/M, Other, Schmoop, aftermath of canonical amnesia, aftermath of canonical torture, gossipy dragons, gratuitous hot springs, spoilers through Part II of Blood of Tyrants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-17 23:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1407304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hideflen/pseuds/hideflen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Love is the only treasure in the world which proliferates in company." While on their way back to Peking from the mountains, Temeraire, Laurence, and Tharkay all learn something about themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost and Found

**Author's Note:**

  * For [annicron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/annicron/gifts).



> Inspired by this post: http://annicron.tumblr.com/post/60964874721/someone-write-a-fic-where-temeraire-is-like-i .

Temeraire's spirits were much improved on their way back to Peking, due not only to the success of their mission but the more important (in his mind) cause of Laurence's memory being restored. Rooting out the real rebels and squashing General Fela had been supremely satisfying, and he was sure that these vigorous reminders of their previous honorable achievements had been the cause of Laurence's recovery of memory. They had also had the unexpected gratification of rescuing Tharkay from the General's men. His treatment by the conservative faction was yet more grounds to Temeraire for squashing General Fela; even though they had been separated for nearly a year, and the fact that he had been acting captain for Arkady for the journey from England, Temeraire even now considered Tharkay to be a part of his crew, at least in spirit. He was still rather cross with Arkady for being so unconcerned about Tharkay's capture.

Breaking from his satisfied reverie, Temeraire looked over his shoulder as they flew over a rushing river. “Are you quite recovered yet, Tharkay?” he enquired. “I would like to hear more of what you have been up to these last months.”

Tharkay, who had been resting to try and recover from his ordeal, stirred from where he had been dozing next to Laurence. “No, I am not yet,” he said from underneath the several blankets which had been wrapped around him and his carabiner straps. He had refused to be bundled into a hammock again, and had insisted on taking his usual place. “I only joined you yesterday. We have the entire journey to Peking and then to Moscow for me to tell you about our time apart.”

Temeraire peered at him. He did look somewhat improved, though he had looked quite wretched indeed when he had emerged from the cave at Blue Crane mountain. He had hardly been able to walk on his own. When he and Laurence had stepped into the light where Temeraire could see them, Tharkay (wearing Laurence’s coat, as his was missing) had sagged. Laurence, quick as winking, caught him around the waist and steadied him.

“Laurence!” Temeraire had cried, winging down from the peak and landing at the cave mouth. “You have found Tharkay, I see. Are you hurt? Is he quite all right?” His forked tongue flicked over them both, smelling for injuries.

Laurence rubbed Temeraire's nose, one arm still clutched tightly around Tharkay's waist. “I will be fine. Tenzing has been badly used by Fela's men, but he will be all right in time.”

Tharkay's eyes fluttered open at the mention of his name. “I am very glad to see you, Temeraire.”

Temeraire nosed at them both. “I am very pleased to have you back. General Chu says that the battle is quite over, so I shall take you both back to camp at once. I do not approve of you risking yourself unnecessarily. Tharkay, you can rest assured that I shall reprimand Arkady most thoroughly for leaving you like that. And how dare General Fela for having you treated so! I shall certainly squash him!”

 

  When they arrived back at camp, Temeraire had said rather enigmatically “I have some business to attend to,” and flew off as soon as the flight crew had disembarked. Before even Iskierka and the others had returned, Hammond had ran up to meet them at full speed, Churki trailing after him like an enormous orange and violet sheepdog.

  "Excellent, I see you have found Mr. Tharkay. This is momentous; there is no way that the conservatives' ludicrous story about smuggling will hold water now. Where did Temeraire go?"

Laurence did not respond right away: his attention was focused on helping to bear Tharkay into the pavilion, slung in a makeshift hammock made of belly-rigging. Nearby, the other British dragons were winging down. Hammond waved furiously to the other captains; some serious regrouping was in order.

Roland and Ferris helped Laurence lift Tharkay gently onto Laurence's bed. Gerry was dispatched to find a doctor. Roland propped Tharkay into a sitting position with some cushions, and Ferris handed Laurence a cup of wine. He brought it to Tharkay's lips, and he drank thirstily. The cup emptied, Tharkay gave a great sigh, and only then Laurence turned to address Hammond.

"I expect that Temeraire went to open some… aggressive negotiations with General Fela."

Hammond blanched. "I hope that Temeraire's actions do not incite his remaining men to riot."

The tent flap opened, and the other British captains came in. "General Chu seems to have everything under control," said Captain Harcourt with a wry smile. "Mr. Hammond, Temeraire needed to be satisfied in his concern that no one will hurt Laurence."

"Or anyone he considers to be on his crew, for that matter," said Captain Granby, walking over to look at Tharkay more closely. "Tharkay, what sort of news would bring a man across thousands of miles of war and mountains?"

He slowly opened his eyes, one of them badly blackened. "Napoleon will invade Russia," he said hoarsely.

Such a short statement could not have produced more of an uproar. Everyone began speaking at once. "The temerity!" cried Sutton. "With what sort of force?" wondered Berkeley. "Will he abandon the Peninsula?" Warren asked. The clamor was only interrupted by Gaiters, Maximus' dragon surgeon, entering with Gerry on his heels and attempting to quiet them down.

"Do you want to send the dragons into a fury at once with all your shouting? Iskierka is on fire to see you, Captain Granby, if you'll pardon the expression. Let me see to Mr. Tharkay; he is not a dragon, but I'll see what I can do."

Still murmuring with anger and excitement, the captains exited and went to bring the news to their dragons and crews.

Laurence watched silently as Gaiters gave Tharkay the once-over; he was marked up quite badly, but the older wounds had already started to heal. Gaiters shook his head looking at Tharkay's hands. "Scoundrels," he muttered, and turned to address Laurence. "He'll be all right in time. I'll splint his fingers, but those will take a while to right themselves. I'll bring you some salve for the burns later, but I must go see to Maximus." He bustled out and Hammond got up to pace, munching on a coca leaf.

"Will," murmured Tharkay, startling Laurence from his contemplation. "Are you all right? Is my news that distressing?"

Laurence shook his head. "It is surprising, certainly. But as for myself, I…" He trailed off. Eight years of memories flashed through his mind, a jumbled but crystal-clear recall. The two of them, safe in a quiet garden of Topkapi Palace; the two of them, standing on the dragondeck of the Allegiance, watching Dover go out of sight; the two of them, covered in dust in the Australian outback, gazing at the inky spangled southern sky; the two of them, in the attic room of a half-burnt house in Plymouth. "I have had an interesting time since we parted." He did not want to distress Tharkay with the tale of his brain fever. He poured another cup of wine. "Are you thirsty?"

Tharkay nodded minimally and reached for the cup, but it slipped through his broken fingers and fell to the floor. He sighed. "If you don't mind."

"Of course," Laurence said, filled another cup and brought it to Tharkay's parched lips.

Hammond finally stopped pacing and sat down. "Mr. Tharkay, what sort of force does Napoleon intend to bring to bear against Russia?"

He explained to them the tremendous news, and Hammond abruptly departed to speak with Lung Qin Mei. Temeraire came to check on them, and the world outside the tent darkened and stars could be seen beyond the flap. Laurence sat in his camp chair gazing at the sleeping Tharkay, still shocked over the abrupt return of his memories.

He shook himself, and went to find Temeraire. He had not far to go; he was sleeping alone inside his pavilion next door, Qin Mei still being closeted with Hammond. Laurence smiled fondly at him. He would have gone through hell and high water all over again to keep such a friend like this in his life. He settled himself on Temeraire's forearm and stroked his nose.

One great blue eye cracked open. "Yes, Laurence?" he rumbled. "Is something troubling you?"

"No, my dear. Temeraire, I…" he drifted off, not quite sure how to begin. "Temeraire, in the cave this afternoon the strangest thing happened." He paused, his hand resting on Temeraire's muzzle. "I am not sure how it happened, exactly, but everything has come back to me."

Temeraire peered at him interestedly. "What do you mean? Your honor is back, I suppose, now that we have proven that there weren't any real rebels; and besides, we found Tharkay."

Laurence smiled at him. "Those are very important indeed. But I meant that I remember everything, my dear--"

He was cut off by a great rumble of pleasure from Temeraire, who vigorously nosed at him in contentment. "Dear Laurence, nothing could make me happier! I did not want to distress you further the other day, but I was so worried that you might never be happy knowing that you had forgotten so much. I was always sure you would remember." He picked up Laurence very gently in one great forehand and held him close. "Your rank was restored you, anyone would call you honorable, and I daresay I can find you another ten thousand pounds somehow, but your memories I could never return to you. You were so upset when I reminded you about our time in New South Wales that I didn't know what to do with myself."

Suffused with a warm, bubbling joy, Laurence leaned into Temeraire's side and embraced him, as much as he could. "Rest assured, my dear. I felt so adrift knowing that I did not know; but I will always be with you, through thick and thin. Even when I knew nothing, I knew that much."

Temeraire nosed at him and purred with pleasure. "I love you, Laurence. You are truly the most important thing to me in the world, and when you didn't remember me, I was crushed."

Laurence stroked his nose tenderly. "And I love you, Temeraire. I am very sorry to have distressed you so; it was my fault to do something so reckless and to get hurt. I can only thank Heaven that events have turned so in our favor."

Temeraire purred. "Laurence, will you tell me about how you captured my egg, and how we met? I would like to make sure you quite remember."

"Of course, my dear." He still could not quite comprehend how seeing Tharkay in the cave had opened the floodgates, and not this twenty-ton nursemaid, scholar, and friend, but he would worry about that some later time. He stroked Temeraire's tendrils. "We had seen the Amitie nearly a full day before we finally hailed her, distracted as we were with a gale which had been chasing us…" and before he got to recalling Temeraire's hatching, that dragon was asleep.

Laurence expertly slid off Temeraire's forearm. "Goodnight, my dear," he whispered, and retired to his tent. Pausing outside the door of the pavilion, he gazed up at the spring constellations visible between the peaks. Polaris gleamed cold and distant, and yet familiar, like the life he had led before he met Temeraire. It was not left behind, he thought; he was still Captain William Laurence, after all. If he had never recovered his memory, he would have left Temeraire behind somehow, and he knew now that he would not have been able to bear it. He may even have gone mad. The deep incision made by whatever had so unmoored him would have caused him to mentally and emotionally bleed to death; that it had been healed so thoroughly not by the presence and concern of this majestic and powerful creature who cared for him so tenderly, but by coming upon a friend in need and helping him in turn surprised Laurence rather. 

He ducked back into his own tent. The one remaining candle burned low, and its dim circle illuminated Tharkay, still propped against the cushions and sleeping. His dark hair had grown as long as Laurence’s own since he had last seen him, and was fanned out over the pillow. As with the rest of him, it was in sorry condition, all knotted and tangled. He pulled up a camp chair next to the bed and settled himself in it, loosening his neckcloth. Laurence removed his coat and wrapped an extra blanket from the foot of the bed around his shoulders. There was room for two in the camp bed (Laurence having been given a more elaborate set of camp furniture due to his putative rank), but he did not want to jostle Tharkay unnecessarily. He could sleep during the flight the next day.

Tharkay started violently in his sleep, and woke with a cry.

“Tenzing,” said Laurence quickly, reaching out a hand and gently grasping his shoulder in between lash marks. “Tenzing, you are safe. It is only me.”

His rapid breathing slowed. “Will,” he whispered. “You’re here.”

Laurence mopped Tharkay’s fevered brow with his handkerchief. “I am. I did not mean to wake you.”

“It wasn’t you who woke me,” Tharkay said darkly. He turned away.

Laurence tucked the blankets more securely around Tharkay. “How did you come to be out here, once the news was known?” he asked, hoping to bring his friend’s thoughts away from his confinement.

Tharkay gratefully nestled himself into the blankets. “I returned to Istanbul after I left you in New South Wales. Mr. Maden had acquired some more evidence of the treachery we were served with in the egg deal, and I brought it to Britain for him.” He looked down. “I saw Sarah. She and her new family are very well.”

Laurence knew that had things been a little different, Tharkay may have been the one to live such an ordinary life. If he had been less of a rogue, they may never have met: he would have been the one with a new family. He held up a cup of wine. “I hope you are not too saddened by her rejection. Would you like some of this?”

Tharkay nodded, and cupped Laurence’s elbow as he brought the cup to his lips. “I am not, anymore.” He looked at Laurence. “I would have found it hard to give this life up.”

Laurence suddenly remembered that he felt the same way about Edith Galman; a passing regret, but now suffused with a detached affection. He knew that the love he had for Temeraire would imbue all things in his life. But why, then, had he only remembered that fact when he had been reunited with Tharkay, not Temeraire himself? 

A few drops of wine lingered on Tharkay’s chin. Laurence swiped them up with his thumb and tasted them, the sweetness of the wine mingling with the salty sweat and grime on Tharkay’s face. A hint of color flashed across Tharkay’s cheeks; Laurence himself blushed and looked down.

“When did you leave Britain?” he asked.

Tharkay cleared his throat. “We got wind of the muster sometime around the New Year, but it wasn’t smoked what he was up to exactly until later. Admiral Roland shipped us out as soon as we heard you were coming to Peking; that was the middle of February, I think. It must have been the beginning of April when I was detained.” He looked around the tent. “Have you a spare shirt somewhere? I am a bit chilled.”

Laurence retrieved one of his own from his makeshift sea-chest. He carefully pulled it over Tharkay’s head and guided his arms through. Automatically he pulled Tharkay’s hair from under the collar; his fingers caught in a snarl. “Would you like me to comb this?”

Tharkay fixed him with a look that Laurence couldn’t quite read. “I would.”

Laurence fetched a comb, and began at the tips of Tharkay’s hair, as gently as he could manage.

Tharkay closed his eyes. “How was our time apart so strange for you?”

Laurence slowed the pace of the comb’s strokes even more. “Looking back, I can hardly believe it myself.”

“Were things that bad?” Tharkay asked. “I did notice that Granby has been somewhat lessened.”

Laurence shook his head. “That did arise out of a rather dire situation, and its consequences may yet catch up with us.”

“He looked healthy to me, I would not have concern for the job.”

“No, John’s lack of an arm is not the source of my concern, not entirely--he is certainly in no more danger than the rest of us at present. Its removal was necessitated by his being hurt through several disasters befalling us while on our way to Brasilia; those were fairly harrowing, I’ll admit. After the Allegiance sank, we ended up getting chased out of the Incan Empire when the Sapa Inca agreed to wed Napoleon. But my and Temeraire’s adventure in the Incan Empire and subverting the Tswana’s agreement with the French are not the most fantastic things which occurred in our time apart.”

Tharkay opened his eyes and looked sideways at him. “That sounds like the two of you, well enough.”

“Do you mean to say that every project Temeraire and I involve ourselves in is far-fetched?” Laurence chuckled, then paused, looking down from Tharkay’s piercing gaze. “I was cast overboard on our way to Peking, and lost eight years of memory. I thought I was still captain of the H.M.S. Reliant. I had no recollection of Temeraire at all; I rather broke his heart, I think.”

“But clearly, Will, you know who I am,” Tharkay said tentatively. “You and Temeraire seem to be the same tender companions.”

Laurence resumed combing. “Only yesterday did I come to the realization that even if I never fully recovered my memory, I would love Temeraire as much as I always had.”

“But the rest…?” Tharkay prompted, after a long pause.

“The rest returned to me only this afternoon,” he continued, focusing his attention on a particularly stubborn tangle.

Tharkay closed his eyes and smiled slightly. “I am glad it did; you may not have recognized me otherwise in this state.”

Laurence very gently combed a strand out. The sight of the man before him—even as wretched as he presently was—had in fact restored all sense to his mind. As soon as he had opened that paneled door and seen his friend’s fraught frame, he had remembered all of the reasoning and context which had brought him to that point. He stroked the strand with his fingers. “Tenzing, it was the recognition of you which brought me to my senses.”

Tharkay opened his eyes and looked straight at Laurence, who for once did not look away. He remembered how once before this man had reminded him of who he was and what he needed to do; this man, whom he had first taken as a sort of vagabond, had come to be held in such high esteem by Laurence that when he had bluntly and honestly asked Laurence what on earth he was doing slaughtering irregulars, it was as though a veil had been lifted. This man, who for reasons Laurence still did not quite understand, had convinced several dozen feral dragons to come to Britain, had taken service in a country which had served him ill, had followed him to the far side of the world and come with him across the dangerous interior of Terra Australis, had come halfway across the world on a very dangerous mission to bring dreadful news, and had endured who knows what atrocities in the course of finding him; he had taught Laurence more about the world and about consideration and about trust than anyone else. Perhaps the reason why he had not remembered Temeraire but had remembered Tenzing Tharkay had been due to their slowly converging feelings on humanity and justice. 

“I have no explanation for it. As soon as I saw you, everything came back,” Laurence said slowly.

Tharkay placed a battered hand on Laurence’s and looked at him searchingly. Laurence very gently cradled Tharkay’s hand in both of his.

When earlier Laurence had called his name in the cave, Tharkay had been delirious with wound-fever and Laurence himself was so overcome with his sudden coming-to that before he knew exactly what he was doing, Laurence had hurried to Tharkay’s side. Tharkay had sat up and was slowly trying to climb off of the pallet. Laurence had knelt and grasped Tharkay’s shoulders; Tharkay had hissed in pain and Laurence dropped his hands to his waist.

“Will,” Tharkay had croaked, reaching his arms around Laurence’s neck.

“Tenzing,” Laurence had said again, and hauled him up.

Tharkay had been shivering, as he was clad only in trousers. He leaned into Laurence’s warm bulk, and Laurence wrapped an arm around Tharkay’s waist and cradled the back of his head with the other. Without thinking Laurence had pressed his lips to Tharkay’s forehead. They had stayed like that, tightly embraced, for a long moment, until Laurence had removed his own coat and slid it over Tharkay’s shoulders. His shivering subsided, whether from the kiss or the coat Laurence had neither known nor cared.

Now safe in the warmth of Laurence’s tent, Tharkay trembled slightly. “I thought I was dreaming when you came in,” he said, his voice quavering and hoarse. “I had dreamt so many times that I would see you again, Will. I didn’t believe it until I felt your touch.” Tharkay smiled fondly. “To think that I of all people have been rescued by such a charming Prince.”

Laurence flushed. ““You saved me as much as I did you, Tenzing. I would hardly call you a damsel in distress.”

Tharkay reached up to touch Laurence’s hand. “I have never been more happy to see someone in my entire life.”

Laurence stroked Tharkay’s bruised cheekbone. “I am sorry I was so long in coming.”

Tharkay closed his eyes. “It will be all right now.”

Laurence drew the chair closer to the bed. “I will be right here.”

 

~

 

Several days out from the mountains, General Chu directed them towards a steaming chasm tucked in between some foothills. They had not stopped there on the way out, so Temeraire enquired as to what the place was.

“Huaqing is a hot spring set aside for the use of dragons specifically,” answered General Chu when they had landed. “The Yellow Emperor himself ordered the natural pools to be expanded. Prince Mianning did suggest to me that we may stop here on our way back, if our mission were to be successful.”

The complex was enormous. Several dozen large pools were tucked among the hills and were steaming in the air. Pavilions were set around these, and several were occupied by dragons of very advanced age of various breeds. The remaining nehru had already arranged themselves between a few pools. Laurence was immediately struck with the notion that this was the Chinese version of Bath.

Temeraire and the other dragons of the British party were shown to a very large and grand pavilion overlooking a vast pool big enough to accommodate over a dozen beasts. The pavilion had a spacious hall into which they all fit comfortably; the smell of roasting meat and spices wafted in from an unseen kitchen. Human-scaled rooms were on the second floor with a long balcony overlooking the dragon-pool. As it was still the early afternoon, the dragons shed their harnesses and returned outside, very interested in the springs.

“I do say, this is something like,” Iskierka declared approvingly, nosing at the water. “Granby, I would like to go in the water, will you join me?”

He looked at the pool dubiously. “I may, but it seems rather deep for humans.”

A Mandarin official came out to greet them. Through Hammond, he explained that Hailougou was a particularly large and extremely hot spring complex, hence it being favorable for dragons’ use. Part of the Yellow Emperor’s improvements were the creation of pools suitable for humans, which were set further up the hill, behind the pavilion. The water was carried uphill from the large pool via a chain of buckets powered by a water-wheel, turned by the water in the large pool flowing downhill into some of the other dragon pools. It was cooled in the buckets to a reasonable temperature for humans to bathe in by their long transit uphill in the cool mountain air. The humans’ bathing pools emptied though an ornamental stream which ended in a waterfall back into the dragons’ pool at a height under which they all might bathe with ease, though Kulingile would be a bit cramped.

Captain Little eyed the mechanisms with interest. “How long will we be staying here? I might like to make a drawing of this; I’ve never seen the like.”

“Oh, would you be able to make a copy of it?” Temeraire asked excitedly. “I would like to show Perscitia; this is quite splendid.”

“My dear, I don’t think that there are any hot springs in the whole of Britain on this scale,” Laurence put in.

“Well, it is interesting nonetheless,” Temeraire said, not abashed. He nudged Laurence with his nose. “You look exhausted. You ought to take a look at the pools for humans; I think we will do fine over here.”

Churki had already climbed into the pool. “It is very nice,” she called to them in English.  She had been picking it up from Hammond, much to his chagrin. “Do come in.”

Laurence stroked Temeraire’s nose comfortingly. “I think I shall have a rest. If you need anything, just call for me.” He and the others set back off toward the pavilion.

Temeraire eased himself into the pool. All the soreness remaining from when he had levered the Potentate off of the reef dissipated; or perhaps it was the lasting worry over Laurence’s memories. All was well now; Laurence had remembered everything, they would be together, they had been successful in fulfilling the Emperor’s edict, and now they would go and defeat Napoleon once and for all. Lung Tien Qian had told him in her last letter that his Chinese name, Xiang, meant ‘lucky’; he had not believed her when Laurence had not remembered him. Now he could fully trust that she had known what she was doing when he had been bestowed that name in the shell. To be able to keep such a fine companion as Laurence through thick and thin might be luck, or the will of Heaven, or whatever she or Laurence may call it. He sighed, deeply contented.

Lily nosed at him. “You seem much happier than the other day,” she said. “I’m glad to see it. You were so low.”

Temeraire nodded. “I was so worried about Laurence; you may have been as worried about Harcourt when she had her egg, but at least she knew who you were.”

Lily peered at him. “You mean to say that he remembers you now?”

“He remembers everything,” Temeraire said very satisfiedly. “He might need a little prompting about certain things, but it is like he never forgot.”

“What was it that brought Laurence’s memories back?” asked Maximus. “It is strange indeed that he only remembered now. You didn’t pass this way when you came back from China the first time, did you?”

“No,” Temeraire shrugged his wings. “Perhaps it was acting so honorably? He is so very attached to honor, though I still am not quite sure why.”

“That is a human trait, certainly,” said Messoria, paddling over. “Sutton explained it to me once. He said that if a man does not act honorably, there is no recourse: he will always be seen as dishonorable, and will be shunned for it. He told me that they had dethroned a king for being dishonorable, a while ago. It ended poorly, though, from what he said--that Cromwell fellow they put in was even more dishonorable, in his own way. Sutton said with Laurence agreeing to go to New South Wales, he was doing something which was still honorable.”

“But are not the Admiralty and Government dishonorable for not liking us to be compensated for our service?” Temeraire asked.

“I would certainly consider them so,” remarked Immortalis tartly. “When we were all sick, we were given diseased cows, can you imagine it?”

“Diseased cows?” Kulingile was appalled. “I thought we had had it tough when we were in New South Wales, when there just weren’t many.”

“We were put on half-rations, once they realized that we weren’t eating as much,” added Nitidus, who was drowsing on Kulingile’s back.

Dulcia nodded. “They were especially stingy with us smaller ones. The Admiralty will be in for a nasty surprise, seeing you, Kulingile—your egg was laid during the sickness, and to retired beasts who hadn’t been fed well. Your being so big is an insult to their rudeness.”

Kulingile looked worried. “Will that hurt Demane’s status?” Meeting the other dragons and their captains had given him a new sense of what a dragon might be expected to do for his captain.

Lily snorted. “Certainly not. You and your captain will be fine, especially if you come to the Peninsula with us. Once you have seen some more action, you may even be given your own formation.”

“That is very honorable,” Churki put in. “I am my mother’s youngest hatchling, but I served in our army with the most distinction out of all my siblings. That is why she did not mind my leaving to start my ayullu.”

Mei finally joined them in the pool; she had removed and carefully set aside her delicate pearl headdress so that it wouldn’t tarnish in the hot mineral water. “Prince Laurence’s honorable actions in helping secure his Imperial brother's claim to the throne are yet more proof that he is a suitable companion for you, Temeraire.”

Temeraire rumbled approvingly at her. They had had a very long and conciliating talk the previous night about what might be done to repair relations between Britain and China. Although she had suggested some perfectly unreasonable means to do this (for example, that Laurence might take a Chinese concubine and make some human eggs to be raised at court with Prince Mianning’s), Mei herself had conceded that Britain might need Laurence’s example to come around to right thinking.

Iskierka shook water off her spines, spattering them all. “It wasn’t honorable of him to behave so recklessly that he fell overboard and forgot everything,” she sniffed.

“It wasn’t honorable of you to behave so recklessly that Granby got so hurt he lost an arm,” Temeraire growled. “Laurence did it to save all of us, and the Potentate, and he is perfectly fine now; he remembers everything.”

“Yes,” she said dismissively. “But Laurence only remembered after he found Tharkay, not when he saw you.”

Temeraire stared at her blankly. The other dragons looked from him to her as though they were watching a tennis match.

“Oh yes—and he did plenty of honorable things while he was lost in Japan,” she went on. “I heard him telling Granby. He and that small water dragon saved a village’s plants, and that boy who joined us had helped him so that he could maintain his earl’s vow of some sort, as I understand. His memories don’t have anything to do with honor,” she said delicately, as though she were trying to be tactful. 

“What did she say about Tharkay?” called Arkady from Maximus’ back. Despite having lived in Britain for over five years, he still had barely any English. “I told you, it wasn’t my fault we got captured.”

Temeraire huffed. “Iskierka says that Tharkay was the one who brought Laurence’s memories back, not me.”

Arkady shrugged. “I would believe it. When we were separated, he shouted at me to find Laurence, not to find you. Maybe he had his memories with him.”

Temeraire looked at him suspiciously. On her enquiry, Temeraire translated Arkady’s words for Lily.

“I’m fairly sure that memories don’t work like that,” Lily mused. “Though I could be wrong. Catherine did say that she would always keep the memory of that awful sailor in her heart.”

Temeraire wanted to point out that Captain Riley was not an awful sailor, in fact he had been rather a splendid one, but he was very intrigued. “But Riley is dead; how could she have his memories? He could not have given them to her: Harcourt hadn’t seen him for months.”

“Perhaps she meant it in a metaphorical way,” Immortalis said softly. “Augustine is actually my second captain; his uncle was my first. He died of consumption in the nineties. I have memories of Edward in my heart, and Augustine is very happy to hear me tell of him, so it is almost like I still have part of him.”

Messoria nuzzled him. “And others remember him too. He and Sutton were good friends for a very long time, even before I had hatched.”

Temeraire contemplated this. “Laurence and Tharkay are very fond of one another, even though they weren’t to start with. But we hadn’t seen Tharkay for nearly a year before now. Even if someone could hold on to memories for someone else, and then be able to give them back, Laurence had not forgotten anything until two months ago. How could Tharkay have brought his memories back?”

 

Granby stretched his arms over his head. “Ah! What a journey this has been.” He looked down at his sketchbook. “I believe that I’ve seen more dragons on this campaign than I have in nearly my entire life.” As he had done in Pusantinsuyo, he had been sketching all the new dragons he had seen. The more recent pages were covered in sketches of the dragons under General Chu’s banner in various attitudes, and there was a whole page devoted to the Shen Lung cooking dinner. He and Captain Little had gone out to the balcony at the front of the pavilion overlooking the large pool to sketch the dragons frolicking and the waterworks, respectively.

“China is spectacular in many ways,” said Little, nodding. “If Government granted half the freedoms to our beasts as they enjoy here, we would be the paragon of dragon care in Europe.”

Granby shook his head. “I fear that that’s what Lien, Temeraire’s cousin I told you about, is trying to do in France.”

They both looked solemnly down at the bathing beasts. When the Potentate had left England to bring Lily’s formation to Brasilia, word had reached England that another dragon besides Lien had been promoted to the rank of Marshal of France. The dragons of the British corps were rather upset by this news, since after the invasion had been repulsed they had met with the opposite treatment by the Admiralty and Government: their own ranks had been ignored, their pay was slow in coming, and Perscitia and the other dragons of Pen Y Fan had faced litigation for buying stone and lumber with their own money (though they had taken delivery of the materials rather without asking anyone).

“Immortalis looks much recovered,” Granby offered. His tussle with the rebel Scarlet Flower had indeed hurt him badly, but it had not been as bad as Little had feared. Even from the height of the balcony Granby could see a content look on the Yellow Reaper’s face as he soaked in the hot spring.

Little stroked Granby’s queue consolingly. “He’s a tough old bird. Iskierka is the one to worry about, though.”

Granby leaned his head on Little’s shoulder. Even though the other aviators would hardly care, it was good to know that they could be seen only by the dragons at present. “She has improved after I was so harsh with her when she tried to buy me that ridiculous hook. But ever since we arrived and she met Mei, she has been a right snob.”

“I suppose she’s just jealous that Temeraire actually has something in common with Mei, other than being impressive.” Little kissed Granby’s forehead.

“She’s probably still sour that she couldn’t make me an emperor, and is just jealous that any egg of Mei and Temeraire’s will be the companion of the Emperor of China.”

“Is the honor of bringing that remarkable egg of her and Temeraire’s back to England not enough for her?” Little asked with a laugh.

Granby sighed. “She is the most vainglorious creature I have ever met.”

Little shrugged. He pulled a glass out of his pocket and inspected the waterwheel. Granby turned his attention back to the dragons just in time to hear his vainglorious creature loudly say “But Laurence only remembered after he found Tharkay, not when he saw you,” in a very condescending manner to Temeraire.

Granby nudged Little with his elbow. “Oh? Augustine, did you hear that?”

Little pointed the spyglass over towards the dragons. “I did.” He raised an eyebrow. “Color me surprised.”

“You ought not be,” remarked Granby with a faint chuckle. “This wouldn’t be the first time Tharkay brought Will to his senses; do you remember when we had been ordered to slaughter those irregulars during the invasion?”

Little nodded, gazing fondly at Immortalis. “That was an ugly business if I ever saw one. Poor Immortalis couldn’t stand the dishonor.”

“Neither could Will; Iskierka was the only one pleased with the situation, the bloodthirsty wyrm. Tenzing couldn’t stand it either, or, I suppose, couldn’t stand seeing Will so low. He was the only one brave enough to confront him.” He took the glass out of Little’s hand and peered down at Iskierka, who was gushing steam in a gloating manner. “They spoke together, and the next time I saw Will he was nearly back to his normal self.”

Little smiled. “I knew nobody goes to New South Wales without a damn good reason.”

“Besides being kidnapped by one’s own dragon, I can certainly think of one,” said Granby with a purr, planting a kiss on Little’s cheek.

“John, you are a regular schemer--Iskierka must get it from you.” Little caught Granby’s chin and pulled him in for a proper kiss.

After a while they heard hallooing from the stairs behind them. “Augustine? Granby? May I come up?” called Chenery. He poked his head around the corner, barely waiting for an answer. “Harcourt and the others have finished their turn, would you like to come for a soak?”

 

While Captain Harcourt, Mrs. Pemberton, and the handful of female officers were taking their turn in the soaking pools (out of what small sense of propriety the aviators shared), Laurence and Tharkay had removed to the bathing room. It was not unlike the one Laurence had been scrubbed down in at Kaneko’s house in Japan, though without the large tub of hot water, for the room had a screened door leading right out to the pools. The room was pleasantly hot, however, as the drainage channel ran beneath the tiled floor: the waterfall into the dragons’ pool could be heard from the window. There was a stack of loose cotton robes waiting in a basket, as well as shelves of soaps and ointments for various ailments. Tharkay had somewhat neglected bathing in favor of speed on his way to deliver his urgent news, and had not been granted the opportunity to wash during his confinement. Laurence himself felt the need for a good scrubbing even though he was much less grimed; during his lapse of memory he had reverted to a Navy-like standard of personal grooming, and had only recently become reacquainted with what he still considered the informal ways of the Aerial Corps.

Tharkay sat down on a polished stone bench and shut his eyes with a great sigh. Stubborn as ever, he had walked the short distance down the hallway from their quarters by himself, though leaning Laurence’s arm for support. One hip and knee had been dislocated, and both ankles, perhaps to maintain a façade that he had done it himself in an accident: his captors had been careful not to mark him overtly, to preserve the fiction that they may have gotten a clean confession to smuggling opium out of him. Gaiters had returned to Laurence’s tent the morning after they found him and with a Chinese human-surgeon had popped the joints back into place and splinted his more-broken fingers. No bones were broken, thankfully, but Tharkay had cried out under the man’s hands all the same. It had been all Laurence could do to stroke Tharkay’s hair and murmur to him that he was safe, that they were together and they were departing for Peking with all haste. He had not slept during the flight that day, his mind still swirling with recovered memories and concern for Tharkay, strapped securely next to him. He had not slept well that night, either—stretched out as much as he could in the camp chair, he had been woken every couple of hours by Tharkay starting awake out of a nightmare, and had anxiously consoled his friend back to sleep.

Laurence exchanged his uniform for one of the provided robes. He knelt in front of Tharkay and lightly touched his knee. “Would you like me to help you bathe, Tenzing?”

Tharkay nodded. Laurence carefully helped him disrobe (he was dressed entirely in borrowed things from Laurence) and gently tied Tharkay’s hair into a topknot. They had undressed in front of one another plenty of times before, and the sight of each other’s scars was nothing new, but the extent of the bruises, abrasions, and burns on Tharkay’s chest, back, and limbs appalled him. Just for passing through with proof of British affiliation, he had been confined and so ill-used. That the opium had actually been shipped with impunity by British agents infuriated him--they had made him a liar to the Emperor, and more alarmingly, this practice which those agents used to prop up the China trade was in fact destabilizing it extremely. From what Temeraire had told him, Mei was livid and even Prince Mianning, more tolerant of Western ideas, would not be in the least sanguine. A grim thought struck him--if the opium had been shipped through East India Company channels, would Sir George Staunton, the very man who had introduced Laurence to Tharkay have been responsible for Tharkay’s treatment and known of it?

“Will?” Tharkay’s voice startled him out of his brown study. “Are you quite all right?”

Laurence started. “Oh, yes—I was just lost in my thoughts.” He lathered up a washcloth and poured a bowl of warm water down Tharkay’s back. Very gently he scrubbed around the lash marks. “I am just distraught that British agents, very probably the East India Company, should have been responsible for dealings with malcontents to the extent that a fellow Briton would be so abused.”

“Please, Will, don’t concern yourself overmuch for my sake,” Tharkay clucked. He sounded very resigned. “My detainment was hardly the East India Company’s fault, and even if it were, it is not the worst unkindness someone affiliated therewith has ever served me.”

Laurence peered at his face as began scrubbing his arms. Tharkay had never before alluded to why, as a gentleman’s son, he would choose to be such a wanderer; if an irregularity about his circumstances had been exploited, that would explain his recalcitrance. However, he would not pry. “I’m sorry,” was all he said.

Tharkay shook his head. “Do not apologize. Apart from our rocky start, you have always been the soul of consideration with me.”

Laurence poured more warm water over Tharkay, and knelt to wash his chest. Tharkay shivered despite the warmth of the room; when Laurence had toweled him off, he draped a warm robe about his shoulders. He quickly scrubbed himself; rinsing, he saw Tharkay looking at him, a fond look on his face. “Yes?”

“I am only admiring the view.” Directly behind Laurence, the window looked out onto the swirling drainage channel and a hollow of rock.

He was quite sure Tharkay could not see it from where he was sitting; he blushed. “I’m glad you’re feeling well enough to jest.”

Tharkay said nothing but held out his hand, the stubborn most he would do to ask Laurence to help him stand. Laurence slid his arms under Tharkay’s and hauled him up. The bruises on his face were already beginning to fade, and his skin was flushed faintly pink in the warmth of the room. A flash of remembrance came across Laurence: the look of wonder and satisfaction he had seen on Tharkay’s face upon seeing the dragon eggs he had helped them to secure from the harem baths in Istanbul was the same one he fixed on Laurence now. “Will, you know I do not jest.”

Laurence could tell he was still blushing; he was dripping wet and still perfectly naked, his arms wrapped around Tharkay’s waist. “Perhaps,” he said breathlessly. “But I do know that there are more worthy sights in this—”

Suddenly the door opened. Laurence snatched up his robe from the floor—being nude in front of Tharkay was one thing; unknown rudesbys who did not even knock was another.

Granby raised an eyebrow at Laurence, but said nothing, smiling. Little, Chenery, and the other male officers all trailed in, already berobed. “Are you coming to the pools?” Chenery asked, his voice merry.

“We had just finished,” Tharkay said, casual as ever.

 

Laurence eased himself into the pool. The soreness from sleeping in a camp chair for the last two nights dissipated from his muscles; or perhaps he just felt so relieved to have his memories back. The comfort of the hot bath was nearly as great as the comfort of knowing Tharkay to be safe, if not yet entirely sound. He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the younger officers splashing around in the deeper end and the other captains musing about the similarities of Huaqing and Loch Laggan.

“But I would say this is most like baths of the seraglio, as we saw in Istanbul,” remarked Granby.

“What were you doing in the harem?” asked Little, an eyebrow raised sardonically.

“Only his duty,” put in Tharkay. “The dragon eggs of the Turkish corps are kept there. When Lien had convinced them to double-cross us, we had to take matters into our own hands.”

Chenery laughed. “I’m sure sneaking into the harem of the sultan was the most onerous mission any member of the Corps ever undertook.”

“It was one of the most momentous nights of my life,” protested Granby. “I took Iskierka’s egg into my keeping.”

Tharkay nodded. “Not to mention the heroic feat of leading everyone out past those girls we surprised; it was rather like Odysseus making his way past the rocks, though with more cutlass-wielding eunuchs.”

“That was all your doing,” Granby said over the laughter of the other officers. “Even I must say that the ladies were the most beautiful creatures I have ever seen.”

Laurence must have drifted off at some point, for the next thing he remembered, Berkeley clapped him on the shoulder. “You aren’t going to fall asleep in the pool, are you?” He jolted awake. Demane, Chenery, Warren, Sutton, and most of the officers were already gone; Little was offering an arm to assist Granby in stepping out. Berkeley was robed and kneeling next to him.

“It would be rather anticlimactic to explain to everyone that you had resolved the situation in Brasilia, defended Britain’s rights in China, and then drowned in a health spa,” Berkeley said with his usual joviality.

Laurence managed to rouse himself and sit up. “I have no intention of doing any such thing,” he assured Berkeley. He turned to Tharkay beside him. “Would you care to return to our rooms yet?”

“While this is very comfortable, a rest would be welcome.” Tharkay’s cheeks were pink with the heat; a tendril of his hair had slipped loose from his topknot, resting in a soft curl at his collarbone.

Laurence slid an arm under his shoulders and carefully braced his friend as they walked up the stone steps out of the pool. Even after they had robed themselves, Tharkay still leaned on Laurence. As they returned to their quarters, Tharkay peered at him. “Are you all right, Will?”

He startled. “I am, certainly.” His mind had been wandering, and the comfortable drowsiness which had suffused him in the pools lingered. He helped Tharkay to sit on the bed, and dug out a clean shirt and trousers for himself and a nightshirt for Tharkay. When he had clothed them both and untied Tharkay’s hair, he gave a great yawn which he could not suppress. “I am a bit tired.” He sat down beside Tharkay.

“It is perfectly safe to rest here,” Tharkay said with a half a smile, then his expression dropped. “I am not capable of harming anyone at the moment.”

Laurence stretched his legs out. “That is rather bloodthirsty of you, Tenzing,” he remarked.

Tharkay sighed, and looked down at his battered hands. “It is very trying not to be capable of anything, to have had that power taken from you.”

Laurence looked over at him, stricken. “I’m sorry, I did not mean to phrase it in that way—“

Tharkay shook his head. “No, Will, as I said before—do not trouble yourself.” He sighed again. “Could you help me to lie down? A rest before supper would be pleasant.”

“Of course.” Laurence gently brought his legs up on to the bed and pulled a blanket over him. He pulled a chair up to the side of the bed and smoothed his hair. “Tenzing, you are worth any amount of trouble to me.”

“Thank you.” Tharkay smiled fondly. “If you are so tired as to fall asleep in the pool, why are you sitting in a chair? That cannot be comfortable.”

Almost automatically, Laurence drew his hand away from Tharkay’s damp hair. He did not want to imply any sort of weakness on his friend’s part, and yet he knew he could not lie to this man. “I have stayed by your side these last nights to reassure you when you start awake,” he said softly, looking down.

Tharkay did not reply for a moment, but then said, his voice thick, “Then please, Will, come lay down. I do not want to wear you thin.”

Heart lightened, Laurence gently brushed a tendril of hair out of Tharkay’s shining eyes. He shifted to a nightshirt and climbed into bed beside him. Tharkay’s breathing was already more measured and relaxed. Laurence rolled onto his side to gaze upon Tharkay’s profile. “I will always be here, Tenzing.”

Tharkay smiled and shifted closer to Laurence, and soon enough they were both asleep.

 

An undetermined but not very long amount of time later, Laurence was awoken by a draconic voice softly calling his name. It was dark out, but he could see a great blue eye peering in through the open doors to the balcony.

“Laurence,” Temeraire whispered. “Are you in there?”

Laurence sat up and lit a lamp. “Yes, my dear, what is it?”

Temeraire gave a pleased hum. “I did not want to wake poor Tharkay; Granby said he was probably sleeping.”

Given that Temeraire’s whispering was not nearly as quiet as a human doing so, Tharkay stirred. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, dinner is ready—I had wondered where Laurence was. Are you recovered yet, Tharkay?”

The man in question raised his arms slowly, then brought them back down. “Not yet, I am afraid, though the hot bath helped.” He sat up, Laurence’s hands steady on his shoulders and waist. “What is this about dinner?”

“They have prepared us the specialty of the resort—salt-crusted pork,” Temeraire said approvingly. “Would you like to join us for some?”

Tharkay looked down at his hands, and tried to open and close them. He winced, and could not manage much flexion. “I am sorry to disappoint you, Temeraire, but I would not be very good company at table this evening.”

“Whyever not? You are always so witty in conversation.”

“He is still recovering, my dear,” Laurence put in, not wanting to explain to Temeraire the extent of Tharkay’s injuries in front of him. “And needs the rest. Do not press him; we will have many more opportunities to dine all together.”

“All right,” Temeraire said apprehensively. “Laurence, will you come downstairs?”

Laurence got up and reached over the railing to stroke Temeraire’s nose. “Of course, my dear. I will be there shortly; please allow me to dress.”

He gave a rumble of pleasure. “Certainly, dear Laurence. Tharkay, I shall make sure something is brought up to you.”

Tharkay smiled at him. “You are extremely considerate. I would enjoy it immensely.”

As Temeraire moved away from the balcony, moonlight filled the room, nearly brighter than the small lamp. Laurence looked at Tharkay, who was once more looking down at his hands, an unreadable expression on his face. Even without him saying a word, Laurence knew that he vehemently resented the robbing of agency brought upon him by his hands being so thoroughly broken; though he had smiled and thanked Laurence previously when he had helped him to eat, he was not a man to tolerate being coddled and spoon-fed. He sat down on the bed and lightly touched his shoulder.

“Tenzing,” he said softly. He did not know what he could say to comfort him; he never wished to act in a pitying or smothering way to this man who had demonstrated throughout their years of acquaintance the most vigorous self-reliance. 

Tharkay tensed, then leaned into his touch. “Will.”

Laurence put his arm around Tharkay’s shoulders and gently squeezed. “I won’t be gone long.”

 

Dinner was a pleasant affair, the food being excellent and everyone in fine humor after their relaxing baths. Temeraire was especially thrilled by Captain Little’s drawing of the waterworks, which he presented to the company while the port was going around.

“Are you quite sure that there are not hot springs like this in England?” he asked Laurence. 

Immortalis nosed at Little. “I have heard that Bath is very nice; would an addition not be feasible?”

Berkeley laughed. “Just imagine you all descending upon the fashionable holiday crowd! I think not.” He patted Maximus affectionately.

“Perhaps we could install one in the coverts,” Lily suggested. “Bathing is quite nice if the water is so warm.”

“I’m sure that if we had some capital, we could have it built ourselves,” Iskierka said, jetting steam and eyeing Granby. “I could even heat the water up.”

Temeraire sighed. “I am sure that that endeavor would end well,” he remarked sourly to Laurence.

He stroked his snout. “My dear, any major construction like that would have to wait until we are returned to England at the very least; pray do not work yourself up.” Temeraire huffed a little. “Would you like to come with me to bring Tenzing his dinner?”

They excused themselves, and laden with a steaming basket packed up by the cooks, took the long way around outside to Laurence and Tharkay’s quarters. Temeraire broke the silence. “Laurence, I can tell that you are worried. I imagine that a fine dinner and such good company would help anyone recover; is Tharkay very hurt? Please do not hide anything from me,” he pled, pausing to bring his head down so that he could look Laurence in the eye.

Laurence sighed and rested a hand on Temeraire’s nose. “I hesitate to discuss other people’s affairs,” he said. “But Tenzing means so much to both of us. You recall how General Fela’s men had shackled Arkady, and put hobbles through his wings so that he could not fly?” Temeraire nodded, concerned. “They needed a scapegoat, someone to place the blame upon. That is why they detained them both. Mei said that evidence is key in any political action in China; they were apparently trying to make it seem as though Tenzing had injured his leg and ankles himself, so that they could make it seem as though they had not tortured a confession to opium smuggling out of him.” Laurence swallowed, rage bubbling in his chest. “When it was clear, I suppose, that he was not going to give them that pleasure, he was lashed and they broke his hands; no one could break both of their hands and all of their fingers so thoroughly by themselves, by accident.”

Temeraire’s tail lashed. “I have never really been happy to kill anyone, Laurence, but I am very glad that I squashed General Fela, hearing this.” His eyes narrowed. “But why would Tharkay not want to come to dinner? When Chenery broke his leg so badly when we were in the Cape, he hardly missed a meal.”

Laurence stroked Temeraire’s tendrils. “When you found us in Mosi oa Tunya, do you recall how sick I was from being lashed?”

Temeraire recalled that awful episode. Laurence had been so feverish that he could not even sit up and speak; from what Roland had said, he had arrived several days after the fact. “I do; it was dreadful to see you so laid out.”

Laurence nodded grimly. “That is what lashing does to a man. It is no wonder that he wishes to rest. I think the reason why he currently chooses to excuse himself from company is that humans rely upon their hands and feet as much as dragons rely upon their wings: he cannot walk unassisted, he cannot feed himself.”

Temeraire put back his ruff in dismay. “What?” he cried. “How dare they!” He picked up Laurence carefully in his forehand and brought him up to the balcony of his room. A light was on, and so Temeraire called out. “Tharkay, are you awake? I am bringing Laurence to you.” He opened his claws and Laurence lightly leapt into the room.

Tharkay had been laying in the bed, right where they had seen him last. “I have brought you some supper, Tenzing,” Laurence said.

No longer able to contain himself, Temeraire burst out, “I am glad I squashed General Fela, Tharkay; how dare he call for such things to be done to you! I promise you, that with my, Hammond, and Mei’s efforts, vengeance shall be wrought.”

Tharkay looked slightly alarmed. “Temeraire, I assure you, this vehemence is not necessary.”

The round arched door was filled with one enormous blue eye. “But you are on my crew,” Temeraire said simply. “Even if you were assigned to Arkady for a while, I think that his behavior in these last months has demonstrated that he does not care for you properly. And you did us the very great favor of bringing Laurence his memories back—for that, I owe you everything.”

“On the contrary, I owe you.” Tharkay said; Laurence helped him to sit up. “Without yourself and Will, I would be rotting in that cave yet. Do not be too cross with Arkady, either; even though I think he is more fond of me than other humans, remember that he grew up in the wild and only took harness to further his own glory.” He turned and looked at Laurence. “And as for Will’s memories, I had no idea that he would be in such need.”

“Really?” Temeraire asked. “Arkady said that you told him to find Laurence; Lily thought that had meant that you had Laurence’s memories with you.” He turned his head and peered at them with his other eye.

Laurence crossed to the edge and placed a hand on Temeraire’s nose. Having not initially known what to say from being so shocked himself, he had glossed over the reasoning when he had informed Temeraire that he had recovered from the brain fever. He knew that he could not lie to Temeraire, but he hardly understood why his reunion with Tharkay should have returned him to his senses. “Temeraire, memories do not have corporeal form. He did not have something stowed in his pocket; it was the sight of him which brought it all back to me.”

Temeraire huffed slightly. “Laurence,” he said quietly, sounding rather plaintive. “Laurence, why would you remember him and not me? Not that Tharkay is not splendid, but he is just another man. I am the only Celestial you have ever met, besides my mother and poor Chuan, and Lien who is unpleasant anyway.”

Laurence was sure that Temeraire could feel his heart beating faster through the pressure of his hand. “My dear,” he swallowed. He worried that Temeraire would be upset with him again, for not being entirely forthcoming with the entire truth of his miraculous recovery. After their time in Pusantinsuyo and especially during his complete lapse in memory, Temeraire had been more possessive than ever before. Laurence in no way wanted to distress his twenty-ton friend by seeming to put another before him in his heart. “My dear, Tenzing is not just another man.”

“I know,” Temeraire wheedled. “He is very excellent at many things, and he did bring you back to me once before, during the invasion. Perhaps that was it.”

Adrift, Laurence looked over at Tharkay, who smiled fondly at him. Laurence smiled back, a feeling of something he could not name settling in his stomach—was it contentment?

“Perhaps,” Tharkay mused, “Perhaps Will remembered me more than you because you are so majestic and striking, Temeraire. It may be that he just could not process your fantastic presence.”

Temeraire purred despite himself. “I would hate to be so grand that I caused people to forget themselves,” he said judiciously. “But I suppose Messoria is right; it must be a human quality which you share that reminded you.”

Laurence stroked Temeraire’s nose once more. “It must be some such, my dear,” he agreed. “Please do not be upset with me; I do not understand why the whole affair should have occurred in the first place.” Temeraire blew a breath out his nostrils, ruffling Laurence’s hair. He then returned to the bed to sit by Tharkay. “Tenzing, are you hungry?”

He nodded, and Laurence opened the basket. He carefully brought a morsel of the tender roast pork to Tharkay’s mouth, and he obediently took it and chewed. Temeraire hummed from the window. 

“I think I know why you only remembered Tharkay,” he burst out.

The men both turned to look at him. “What do you think the cause, my dear?” asked Laurence.

Temeraire turned his head to regard them with his other eye. “Because you are mates,” he said simply.

Laurence blushed crimson, right up to his ears. Even Tharkay, normally so unflappable, showed a faint gleam of pink under the bruises.

“You care so much for one another,” Temeraire continued. “You are feeding Tharkay, and you were coiled up together earlier. You work very well together in actions and every day. And you call each other by your first names; I don’t think that anyone else does except for perhaps Granby and Admiral Roland. And Tharkay brought all those feral dragons from the Pamirs to Britain, which Gherni once told me he did all for you, Laurence. I am sorry I did not realize earlier—I’m sure I must have offended you, implying that you were carrying on with Mrs. Pemberton.”

Laurence was too flustered to speak, but Tharkay laughed. The sound brought a warm feeling to Laurence’s chest; he had not heard the man laugh in over a year. “Oh, Temeraire,” Tharkay wheezed. He leaned into Laurence, resting his head on his shoulder. “I suppose in the draconic fashion, we are involved,” he said, looking up at Laurence with a roguish smile.

“You have not exchanged any treasure,” Temeraire put in. “Though I would rank Laurence’s memories—which you did return—above all the gold in the world.”

Helpless, Laurence looked over at Temeraire. “My dear,” he began faintly.

“I know you cannot make eggs together,” Temeraire put in dismissively. “Eggs have nothing to do with it. Iskierka and I made a marvelous egg, but I do not like to spend time with her, since she is so incorrigible. I meant it in a fellow-feeling sort of way.”

Laurence put his arms around Tharkay. It was entirely true that he was closer with Tharkay than with almost every other human. Did the return of his memories only at his reunion with his particular friend mean that perhaps there was something more between them, something which may not have yet manifested? He drew Tharkay closer, his warm weight comforting against his chest. Once again Temeraire had hit upon a notion which Laurence had never considered, but nevertheless knew in his heart to have merit.

“You are not upset by your realization, my dear?” Laurence asked tentatively.

“Not in the least,” Temeraire replied. “Tharkay is much nicer than Mrs. Pemberton, and he is much more convenient than Admiral Roland, as I am sure Excidium would be annoyed with your spending so much time together.”

Tharkay laughed again. “Temeraire, you have the gist of it, I believe. Do not tell Arkady, though, as he will not take being lied to—I told him that I brought them to Danzig and thence to Britain to rescue you, not to impress Will.”

“Do not worry, I shan’t tell him, or anyone for that matter,” Temeraire said reassuringly. “I am not a fool like Iskierka is; Immortalis wouldn’t speak to her for ages when he heard what she had tried to do to poor Granby, and I certainly do not blame him.”

Laurence sighed resignedly, though he was not in any way upset. To have Temeraire content, to be reunited with his particular friend, and to once again have an honorable duty were all propitious turns of fortune; to perhaps have discovered something deeper within himself and within Tharkay was not at all disagreeable. The fastidious support, deep devotion, and pure love of two such close personal friends meant more to Laurence than he could quite conceive. He felt a hot prickling at the corner of his eyes, and he turned his face so that Tharkay could not see.

He did see, however, and carefully touched Laurence’s chin. “Will,” he murmured, turning to look at him. “Will, it is all right. We are together again, Will, look at me, all is well,” and as Laurence turned to behold him Tharkay gently brought his lips to the corner of Laurence’s eye, brushing away the tears.

Laurence pulled away and looked deep into Tharkay’s brown eyes. “I came so close to losing you both, and not even knowing it,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I cannot imagine what I would have done without you. Temeraire, Tenzing, you both mean the world to me.”

Tharkay smiled. “Why do you think I have followed you halfway across it so many times?”

Laurence smiled back at him, feeling content and quite warm all over. He closed the distance between them and very softly brought their lips together. Tharkay put his hand on Laurence’s chest between his shirt and coat, the warm gentle pressure imputing more than words could express. Temeraire gave a pleased rumble from the balcony doors, and they at last broke apart.

“Ought I go?” Temeraire asked tactfully.

Tharkay and Laurence looked at one another, both rather pink, then Tharkay’s stomach gave a great rumble.

“No, my dear; perhaps Tenzing might enjoy some of the poetry you have been learning while he eats?” Laurence said, glancing at Tharkay, who nodded.

“I would be very pleased to oblige you,” Temeraire said, and cleared his throat.

 

Later, when Tharkay had eaten his fill and leaned back on the pillows to contemplate on the fine poetry (as he had said), Laurence stepped out to the balcony to wish Temeraire good night.

“Are you sure you are not upset by my closeness with Tenzing?” he asked quietly, stroking Temeraire’s soft muzzle.

“Not at all, as long as he stays with us and doesn’t go haring off on some dangerous mission with anyone else,” he rumbled.

“Certainly not,” Laurence assented.

“Good. It is just that…” Temeraire trailed off hesitantly.

Laurence peered at him. “What is it, my dear?”

He cast him a sidelong glance. “It is just that I hope you do not want to spend all of your time with him now, and not me.”

Laurence put both hands under his chin and their light and dark blue eyes met. “Temeraire, I should never put you aside for anything. Love is the only treasure in the world which proliferates in company.” He then bent down and did something he had never done before: he gently kissed the tip of Temeraire’s nose.

Temeraire responded with a great pleased purr and nosed at him. “Then I am beyond happy, Laurence.”

Laurence beamed at him. “And I am happy as well.” He stroked his tendrils once more. “I will then say good night, my dear.”

Temeraire nosed back at him. “Goodnight, dear Laurence.”

He stood on the balcony a moment to watch him walk with a jaunty air around the corner to the end of the pavilion set aside for himself and Mei. He gazed at the steaming pool reflecting the setting moon, and turned when he heard Tharkay call his name. He returned inside, loosening his neckcloth. “Yes, Tenzing? What is it?”

Tharkay looked up at him with half-lidded eyes and a gentle smile. “Temeraire is an incredibly generous dragon to share you with me.”

Laurence smiled back at him. “Don’t give him too much credit; he will probably not let you out of his sight now.”

“I suppose I could live with that,” he said with a chuckle. He gestured to the empty space beside him. “Join me, Will?”

Laurence bent down and kissed his forehead. “Of course.” As soon as he shifted to a nightshirt, he put out the lamp and slid between the sheets.

Tharkay leaned towards him and Laurence cradled his friend’s tender frame in his arms. Tharkay tilted his head up and gently kissed Laurence. “Goodnight, Will.”

Laurence returned the kiss, languid and tender. “Goodnight, Tenzing.”

With moonlight reflecting silver onto their tender embrace, they both slept peacefully the night through.

**Author's Note:**

> Regarding the gratuitous hot spring: Huaqing is a real hot spring; it is near Xian. In real life it has nothing to do with dragons, but the Yellow Emperor apparently did enjoy going there with his favorite concubine.
> 
> Regarding Immortalis: I figured that the Admiralty would try to pair Yellow Reapers as closely as they could; putting friends to hatchlings destined for the same formation would probably help morale or something. I also figured that Little and Chenery would be about the same age, apparently being BFFs and all.
> 
> Regarding "My detainment was hardly the East India Company’s fault, and even if it were, it is not the worst unkindness someone affiliated therewith has ever served me”: I have this headcanon where Tharkay's mother was his father's second wife; after she died and his father wasted away in grief, his older half-brother basically disowned him and kicked him out (hence his experience in the Scottish courts of law). While his brother took up their father's position in the East India Company, our Tharkay ran away to join his mother's family in Nepal, having his adventures in Istanbul etc on the way.


End file.
